Waiting For The End
by Wings Of Sanguine
Summary: Whilst on patrol with the knights, Merlin goes missing, the bandits who stole him claiming he has magic. Despite the warnings, the knights of Camelot pursue in hopes of getting the servant- and some answers- back. DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN MERLN OR ANY CHARACTERS.
1. Chapter 1

Gwaine had been taking his turn to watch over the campgrounds while Prince Arthur and the rest of the knights slept, and Merlin tended to their belongings when it happened.

They had taken refuge in a forest near to Ealdor, and the night air was brisk as they struggled to calm their hoses long enough for Percival and Leon to gather supplies and set up their tents. Gwaine sighed, giving Merlin his blanket. He didn't see how it was fair that the knights and the prince got to sleep comfortably even if they were in the middle of the woods, and Merlin was still forced to sleep on the dirty, damp floor. He greatly disliked seeing his friend wake up dirtier and covered with more sticky leaves and bugs than the night before. And then Arthur had the audacity to complain when he forced Merlin to make breakfast and there would be a tiny beetle crawling out of the bowl only to fly away from the prince's glare.

"If you don't want bugs in your food, then at least give me a blanket to sleep on!" Merlin retorted. Arthur scoffed.

"You're not a knight, Merlin, really," Arthur shot back nonchalantly, pausing as he realized what he had just said, processing the slightly hurt look on his servant's face. Gwaine shook his head. He knew Arthur had only meant it as a joke, but did he really have to go that far?

"You…. are such a prat, Arthur, you know that?" Merlin tried shakily to keep himself sounding sarcastic, lighthearted. But Gwaine could see how Merlin deflated slightly. Saying Merlin didn't need a blanket to keep warm simply because he wasn't a knight…

It was like saying Merlin's well-being didn't really matter.

Sure, he had seen other knights treat peasants as such, but he had never really expected it from Arthur; after a few minutes, however, the damage had been done, despite how many times Arthur attempted to apologize. Merlin kept a smile on his face though, going through the motions of cleaning up after everyone as he normally would back at the castle.

"Merlin, do you want some help?" Gwaine asked, as Arthur and the others retired to their comfy bedrolls, back to the safety of their tents from the angry servant. Merlin dumped all the bowls back in the bag, not even bothering to wash them. Shoulders slumped, Merlin shook his head.

"No, Gwaine," he sighe heavily, "it's fine."

"But you have so much to clean," Gwaine pointed out uselessly, "And we're in the middle of the woods-"

"And I'll just let Arthur yell at me again because lo and behold a stray leaf decided to fly into his hair," Merlin wrung his hands, brushing his ebony black hair from his face. "Gwaine, he always finds something to complain for." Gwaine shrugged.

"Yes, but that's just Arthur," Gwaine pointed out, "I'm sure it wouldn't hurt to ask for some help here and there."

"Are you kidding?" Merlin said incredulously, "It's status, Gwaine. Arthur probably wouldn't be able to wipe his own backside if I weren't there. I'm supposed to do everything for him, that's my job."

Gwaine had to admit, Merlin was doing a fine job. It was only recently that Arthur had begun to complain of Merlin's work. It was strange though, how vocal he was about it at this point. When they had started the patrol, the first thing Arthur had Merlin do, in fact, was sharpen his swords. The odd thing was, they had just gotten into the neck of the woods, and Merlin didn't have the necessary tools. So Princess (as Gwaine called him behind his back) complained about how blunt the blade was the entire day until they set up camp that first night. Everyone had gone to sleep either tired of the constant string of comments and complaints or cold and wet, as Mother nature decided they hadn't had enough troubles on their hands.

Merlin had gotten a cold, body shaking every now and then as he tried to stave off the beginnings of a fever. It didn't help that Arthur was stupid enough to go somewhere without vials of medicine in case anything like this happened. But the next day, miraculously, Merlin was fine, up and about as he always was.

"Yeah, that's true," Gwaine chuckled, getting Merlin to crack a smile for what seemed like the first time they had begun this damned patrol. Wiping sweat off his brow, he offered, "But next time, if you feel you need help with something, don't hesitate to ask me, alright?"

Merlin nodded, still grinning, "Yeah, alright. Thanks, Gwaine."

"I should probably get back, or else Elyan will have a fit if he found out I didn't wake him up to take the next shift," Gwaine muttered under his breath, although he took it in stride. Elyan was a great warrior, someone he would defend with his life; no doubt the man would do the same for him or anyone else. Especially his sister, Gwen.

"Alright," Merlin said. The dawn had begun to creep up over the horizon, shafts of orange and yellow light peeking between the trees, playing tag with the chilly breeze as it rustled the vegetation of the forest. Gwaine took one look at Merlin before going back to the tents. The others had a tendency to oversleep, and they needed to use the daylight while they were able to have it. He could hear Merlin faintly cursing out the bowls as he made an attempt to even get them to look clean.

Percival, Leon, and Elyan were all huddled together for warmth, the big lug that was Percival cradling the thin gray blanket in his beefy arms, leaving Elyan and Leon to cling to one another. Gently, with the toe of his boot, Gwaine nudged Elyan's side, and the knight groaned, nearly smacking Leon in the face as he stretched. Leon's orange beard and curly hair had leaves stuck in it. Gwaine suppressed a chuckle as he watched Leon scratch at his stomach, the chainmail he wore riding up to expose a somewhat pale, slightly defined stomach. Gwaine laughed, "Time to get up, you ninnies! Who knows what Merlin has for us in terms of breakfast today!"

"Breakfast?" Percival jolted awake, rubbing blearily at his eyes. Of course Percival's first waking thought would be of breakfast. It seemed to be the only thing on his mind.

"Yeah, so let's get up, lest the princess wants to sleep in," Gwaine suggested, everyone groaning at Arthur's nickname.

"Can't we just let him sleep in a _bit_ longer?" Leon suggested meekly.

"I don't think I can listen to him badger Merlin one more time over bugs, I _swear_ ," Elyan shook his head in agreement, "I mean, what did he expect being in the woods? Daisies and rainbows?"

"Whatever, let's just get some breakfast and we'll wake Arthur later," Percival said, throwing off his blanket, "I'm starving!" Gwaine rolled his eyes as he lead the other out, commenting, "You're always hungry, Percy." Gwaine glanced around, trying to see where he had left Merlin. No one was in sight, the horses clopping unsteadily by a tree a few feet away from the campsite. Arthur had insisted they be tied to tree far enough where he could see them, but not have to deal with the smell. Percival immediately plopped himself down at the fire pit, rubbing his hands together.

"So, where's Merlin?" he asked. Gwaine shrugged, gesturing over his shoulder near the stream.

"He was getting wood for the fire, to actually cook the food this time, you know?" Gwaine teased, "Nah, he'll be back soon." Percival seemed satisfied, clapping his hands against his thighs as he stood up. "Where are you going?"

"Well, if the food isn't cooked yet, I'll just go get my stuff from the tent and sort it out," Percival explained, "Besides, Elyan and Leon have been having spats over whose blade is sharper. I told them I'd help sort it out." Gwaine nodded, watching as Leon shoved Elyan with "I know mine is sharper, mate!" Elyan retorting with, "Well, mine's _longer_ , so there!"

Gwaine thought he could hear the distant pounding of hoofs, but then he remembered that the group had their horses, all being as noisy as they wanted. He could hear Merlin cry out in agony as he most likely dropped the dishes for the third time that morning. Boy, was Arthur going to have a fit if he found out it took this long just to clean the damned things, then to have to go and cook the actual food, which Merlin would most likely be given no time to eat himself.

Sometimes Gwaine thought Arthur had it out for the boy, he really did.

The stream gurgled as Gwaine took it upon himself to venture don't to the lakebed and join Merlin, picking up a few dry sticks here and there. The soil was much more damp by the water, the knight's boots squishing in the mud, water quelching into the soles with each step.

"You know, Merlin, I'm not really sure why you need all this wood in the first place," Gwaine said aloud as he gathered three more to add to his collection.

No answer.

"I mean," Gwaine continued, "my back hurts and I've only just _started_ …."

Only the twitter of birds overhead were his reply.

 _Odd_ , Gwaine thought, brushing his hair out of his face as he looked around. No one was in his general vicinity, but glancing down west of the river, he thought he could see someone. The first thought in Gwaine's head was that it was Merlin, taking Arthur's horse for a drink. Starting towards the person in the distance, Gwaine began to hum to himself- nothing important, just a small song his mother used to whistle when he was a child. It was nice to think of her once in a while when with the knights, just to know that he could be comforted. The bundle of sticks began to scratch his arms, a piece of the twigs getting caught in the sleeve of his chainmail.

"Merlin ought to be happy I'm doing this, right?" Gwaine began to talk to himself, bending down to pick up more branches by the stream, "Bloke has enough to worry about already…."

As he bent to pick up his fifth stick (he had made a game of it, rhyming the number of driftwood collected) he came across the shattered piece of clay and porcelain. Carefully fingering the shard, Gwaine lifted his head, glints of gold and white teasing the knight, a trail of breadcrumbs leading him home. A treasure chest on the map, as they said.

Gwaine dropped his bundle of sticks when he heard Merlin's cry, the shard of the plate drawing a thin line of blood on his palm where he clutched it.

"Merlin!" Gwaine shouted, the trees around him blurring as he ran, " _Merlin!_ "

"Quick! Gimme the knife!" Gwaine could hear a man yelling, Merlin's grunts as he tried getting away, hopefully. The knight nearly fell on his face as he skidded to a stop in a small clearing, slamming into a tree. Pain burst like fireworks in the back of his skull as he looked up.

Regrettably so, as a group of bandits had the servant on his knees, head pulled back to bare his neck and a knife resting on his throat. Gwaine's mouth felt dry as he watched Merlin struggle, how his strangled cry for help sounded like that of an animal. Eyes darting between the brutes (there were about five in total, the biggest one looking on as a rather wiry man held on to Merlin), Gwaine went for his sword, then realized it wasn't there.

"Shit!" he said, quickly ducking behind a tree as the thugs all turned towards the sound. Merlin had gone silent, his shoulders trembling violently as his head was kept practically upside down against the wiry thug's chest.

"Who's out there?" called the leader, his voice booming and racking like thunder. Gwaine felt his knees buckling. All of them had weapons. He wouldn't be able to do anything…..

Unless he went back to the camp.

Of course, Arthur would reprimand him for leaving the campsite in the first place. And then badger on about how Merlin was always never where he was supposed to be. Gwaine shook his head; he couldn't think about the repercussions. He had to move. Now.

Spinning on his heels Gwaine darted out from his hiding spot, stumbling as he jumped over tree roots to race down the lakebed and back to the knights. Thankfully, the bandits ignored him, having turned their attention back to Merlin, but it was all Gwaine could do not to run back and punch the man square in the nose as he nearly leapt upon his gear, hearing Merlin's faint cries in the distance. He was almost clear of their camp when Arthur called out for him.

"Gwaine! There you are!" Arthur said nonchalantly, "Where have you been? We need to get started-"

"No time! We need to go _now-_ " Gwaine started dragging Arthur behind him for only a few moments, suddenly lunging forward with his momentum as Arthur jerked his arm away, raising an eyebrow at him. Gwaine struggled to retain his balance, and his boots were filled with sticky mud, the substance drying colly on his feet.

"Gwaine, where is Merlin?" Arthur said with disdain, "I mean, it doesn't take _that_ long to wash dishes-"

Arthur stopped dead in his tracks when they heard Merlin's pained cry, verberating through the trees. A murder of crows manifested from their perch on an overhead canopy, blotting out the sun momentarily in the sky. Before the other knights (who had sprang forth from their tents at the sound) or Arthur (who only ceased to look more confused) could stop him, Gwaine was charging back through the forest, sword smacking his thigh as he went. The shuffling of footsteps told him that the others were in pursuit; it was good, as he didn't know how strong these bandits were. Or (heaven forbid it) if they practiced magic.

Finally, as they made it to the clearing one more, Gwaine nearly keeled over from what he saw, bunching Arthur's chainmail in his fist to keep standing. The prince looked no better, his face having paled. Percival and leon had drawn their swords, Elyan looking ready to flee the scene.

"Well, shit," one of the bandits said, catching the buff leader's attention, "Looks like the little pet has guard dogs, huh?" Gwaine didn't hear what the man had said though, as he was already swinging his sword, preparing to slice through the ugly man's neck-

-and found a bout of pain radiating through his skull as he was suddenly thrown backward, smashing into a tree. The last thing he heard was Merlin's agonized screams as the knights ran forward, swords raised high above their heads.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur braced himself for the impact as he watched Gwaine being flung like a ragdoll to the side. He watched almost helplessly as two of the bandits, one brandishing a dagger at his man-servant's throat, held him in place, one of them clamping a sticky and gnarled hand to Merlin's mouth, muffling his cries. And then they were running at the bandits, brandishing their swords.

Clanging and clacking, Arthur immediately got caught up with a rather small man in the group, whose sword looked incredibly cheap, as if it would snap in two at the slightest touch. Of course, he held his own, parrying and blocking every single one of Arthur's strikes with ease. The man's hair was oily, swinging in his face as he moved along with Arthur, predicting each move.

A loud cry and Arthur could see Percival running at the two men holding Merlin, his face entirely made of a newfound rage. He knew Percival was a friend of Merlin's, but even he was surprised by the ferocity with which he went at them. Merlin even looked scared, digging his heels into the dirt as the captors tried dragging him away before Percival ripped them to shreds.

" _Let go of him!"_ Percival cried harshly, and Merlin froze in the bandit's hands. Before Percival had a chance t swing his sword, however, the bandits were gone, having disappeared in a puff of nast black smoke.

And so had Merlin.

The knights looked around, Elyan joining Percival as they ran back down the bed of the river, checking for any signs of life. Arthur doubted it. Sorcerers had a habit of cropping up and just…. _poofing_ away whenever they wanted. It was too convenient for them to be able to do so.

"Wh-where did they go?!" Elyan asked, Leon scratching his beard thoughtfully.

"Isn't it obvious?" Percivall snapped, "They're gone!" A groan sounded, and Arthur crouched down at Gwaine's side as he shook his head, blinking back tears as he started to come to. Dirt and wet leaves stuck to his face, tangled in his shaggy brown hair. His armor had a slash in the front, but there was no blood, at least from what Arthur could see.

"M-Merlin….?" Gwaine stammered, his face ashen.

Where Merlin had been held only moments prior was now scorched, the leaves and ground streaked with long black marks radiating outwards like the rays of the sun. It was midday, the yellow orb in the sky hanging low above the green canopy of the trees. Slipping Gwaine's arm over his shoulder, Arthur hoisted him up, trudging back to the campsite.

"Gwaine, we need to get you to Gaius-" Arthur began, panting for breath. He was in good shape, he knew, but it had been a while since he was engaged in any sort of battle, magical or not.

"Oh, dear gods- _Gaius_ -" Gwaine moaned, "We need to tell _Gaius-!_ "

"What we need," Leon joined in on Gwaine's other side, "is to get you some medical attention."

"No. We need to find Merlin-"

"Gwaine."

"But Merlin-"

"Gwaine!" Leon snapped, and Gwaine glanced up at him, eyes clouded over as if he were meeting the man for the first time. "We should get packing." Arthur felt a pang of sadness as he watched Gwaine struggle to comprehend what exactly happened. His brown eyes roamed everywhere, squinting at Arthur's chainmail. His hair was plastered to his face with sweat, and Arthur thought he could see a thin line of blood by his cheek. A slight burn tickled the knights skin as the sun beat down on the heavy chainmail, and Arthur was more than happy to let Gwaine fall back on one of their bedrolls, taking a minute to catch his breath.

And then it hit him.

Merlin was gone.

Dread seeped through the prince's bones, limbs feeling heavy as he managed to sit up in the tent, watching as Gwaine let his eyes flutter shut. There was just no way…. no way that his servant was just gone like that. He could hear the others collecting their belongings from outside, gathering as much as they could before staking out the fire.

"Sire, we should go," Arthur was surprised to see Elyan peek his head into the tent, his sword clutched tightly in his fist.

"I know, Gwaine needs medical-" Arthur drone with a lazy roll of his eyes.

"I was gonna say we should go find Merlin, but I suppose helping the lazy drunk is a good idea too," Elyan shrugged as he smirked at the prince, "Percival and I've set everything up. Shall we get going?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow as Elyan ran out of the tent. Only five minutes ago (not even, really) had Merlin been taken. And yet they were already prepared to go find him? Arthur shook his head, moving to get up; there was no way his father would allow such a thing. After all, Merlin was a servant-

"To hell with what the king says, if that's what you're thinking," Gwaine groaned, sitting up himself, rubbing his head, "I mean, Merlin is everyone's friend. Shouldn't be that difficult to decide what to do."

Well, that was quick. Arthur emitted what sounded like a cross between a groan and an internal scream, rattling his bones to the very core. Scratching his head, he said, "Gwaine, what the hell are you doing?"

"What's it look like, Princess?" Gwaine teased, shrugging his armor on so it sat properly on his shoulder. Dents and gouges were in his breastplate, and a piece of his chainmail was ripped, but other than that he looked perfectly fine.

Astonishing, really, considering the blow to the head he just took.

"You can't be serious!" Arthur scoffed, reluctantly helping Gwaine to his feet as they ducked out of the tent and towards the horses. The look Gwaine sent him put chills through his spine. His eyes were cold, demanding if only for a moment. And just like that, they reverted back to their happy, glazed over look as Gwaine patting his back.

"I'm deadly serious, mate," Gwaine said cheerfully, "shall we go?"

Arthur begrudgingly followed his knights, fully aware of the world of pain his father was going t put him in when they got back.


	3. Chapter 3

"Put the little brat in there until Cenred deems otherwise."

Merlin froze at the name. Cenred. It sounded familiar, like he knew who that was. In fact, he was pretty sure he was supposed to remember. But he couldn't The servant squeezed his eyes shut as he was propelled forward, met with the slap of cool, slick stones underneath him. Getting up, he wiped the wet muck from his face, taking in his surroundings.

 _Great_ , he thought, _another cell_.

A bale of hay sat in the far right corner, and Merlin could see water leaking like a faucet from the far corner of the ceiling. There were no windows, and Merlin was all too aware of the rattle of the chains hanging from a fixture on the floor. He had to admit, it was different, seeing the chains attatched to the floor and not, say, the wall or ceiling. It meant he didn't have to stand; however, it still wasn't comforting.

It seemed to the young warlock that he always went and got himself into trouble, as he sat himself up with his back against the grimy wall of the cell. Of course, taking care of Arthur had its "perk", what with being chased by one evil sorcerer this week and possibly a crazed, power hungry king the next. He dared himself to chuckle, silencing himself at the daggers thrown his way.

"We didn't give you permission to speak, boy," the leader of the group spit at him, "and you only speak when spoken too. Got it?"

Merlin grinned, knowing he was most likely going to regret the next words out of his mouth, "I guess it's a good thing you're talking to me, then, huh?"

He wasn't at all prepared for the spear that was sent to dig into his side. A slap across the face, perhaps- oh, hell, even the kicking of multiple feet at his legs or face or back. Never before had he encountered a spear in his travels intent on harming him.

It struck him odd that he would think about such things. Here he was in a possibly life or death situation (most likely death, but he gave himself the benefit of the doubt), and he was thinking about all the different weapons his captors could possibly use.

Merlin let himself laugh, receiving another blunt blow. Pain coursed through him in waves, exploding as they reached his skull in a fit of fireworks and nerves. There was a loud clang, and the door to the cell was shut, the leader leaving two guards to stand by the locks.

Great.

Sighing, he drew his knees to his chest, tucking them under his chin. Thankfully, they didn't slap those manacles on that chain to him, but he knew it would happen in due time. It still irked him that he was being rather commonplace about this. But when you're the manservant of the prince in a kingdom that's outlawed magic and slaughtered innocent people, what else was there to expect?

He could only hope he wasn't trussed up like a pig. That, or Arthur and the others actually managed to make it and rescue him before that happened.


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur was surprised to see her as they traveled through the wood, coming across a bridge. Not that he wasn't happy to see her, no, it was just a bit of a shock, was all. She stood, waiting with her back to him, the sunlight dancing in the brown curls of her hair, making her skin glow like amber. She was leaning over, speaking diligently with a small dwarf that guarded the bridge at the lip, where a stake had been driven through the string to keep it in place.

The prince remembered this bridge. It was the same one he had crossed on his quest- for the King Fisher's Trident. It seemed such a distant memory, but all Arthur could remember was Merlin and Gwaine annoying him to no end. And the little man who had dubbed him 'Courage.' He pushed the thought away when he found himself meeting her eyes, wrapping his arm around her waist and pecking her lips with a kiss.

"Gwen!" he said happily, "Obviously I am very happy to see you, but what brings you all the way out here?"

"Well," Gwen sighed, "Elyan sent word about what happened, and I figured I can help with dinners and medicines and the like." She gestured to her brother, who smiled as he watched the two embrace. Arthur glanced down, seeing the bridge's keeper smiling up at them, pale lips wide to show off a good set of slightly yellowed teeth. Nothing a good cleaning wouldn't fix.

"It seems Courage and Strength have invited Love to join them," the man stated, and Arthur grimaced in an exchange with Gwaine.

"Still using riddles, huh?" Gwaine spoke up.

"But it is true, for you are Strength," the dwarf repeated, gesturing to Arthur he added, "He is Courage, and this lovely lady is Love." Gwen blushed at the offering, glancing down at her feet.

"Listen, we don't have time-" Elyan interrupted, stepping forward, only to stop at the dwarf's next words.

"It seems Kindness is very troubled by my words, hmm, Courage?"

Arthur scoffed. Where were these names coming from? All they wanted to do was cross a bridge, not play games! The group jumped as a crow sounded overhead, flapping its black wings in a hurried flight through the trees. Gwaine placed a hand on Elyan's shoulder, saying, "It's alright, Elyan. Bloke gave me and Merlin nicknames too. Mine was- what was it again?"

"Strength," the dwarf supplied with a slight bow.

"Yeah, I was Strength, it seems Arthur is Courage, Gwen is- Love, was it?- and now you're Kindness," Gwaine mused, clapping Elyan on the back. He glanced at Percival and Leon, the wiry but strong man standing next to the bulky friend.

"Ah, you are wondering for yourselves?" the dwarf said t their questioning eyes.

"Frankly yes," Leon nodded, Percival staying quiet.

"Well you, my curly haired friend, are Reason," the dwarf said, and to Leon, "And you, my giant friend, are Forgiveness." Percival seemed to have brightened up a bit at this idea, and squared his shoulders back, puffing out his chest like a peacock would its feathers. Gwen giggled, hiding her smile behind her hand.

"That's all well and good, but can you step aside and let us cross?" Arthur gestured to the other end of the bridge. It wasn't a long bridge, which was good, but it was rickety, the squeaking echoing as it rattled in the wind. The dwarf nodded, glancing down. Arthur was curious as to why the dwarf's eyes widened in surprise, even more shock when he curled his thick fingers round his wrist.

"He has saved you from it," the dwarf breathed, "From the Eye of the Phoenix."

"Eye of the what now?"

"Eye of the Phoenix, Courage," the dwarf explained, "Whoever comes into contact with it has their life-force drained from their body until they are but a shell, left to rot away forever."

Arthur paled, "That doesn't make any sense! Last I was here I wore a bracelet-"

It dawned on him then, that the bracelet had been the cause of him being so tired. He remembered clearly struggling to even drag his sword from its sheath, taking refuge in King Fisher's castle from Wyvrens. But when he glanced into the dwarf's eyes, he knew.

"That bracelet…. Morgana was trying to kill me?"

"It would seem so, Courage," the dwarf said, "For if Strength and his friend had not come to save you, you would be long gone."

Arthur glanced at Gwaine, who only shrugged cheekily in reply. None of this made sense. Morgana, she had given him the bracelet as a token of luck, hadn't she? She surely meant well! Arthur locked eyes with Gwaine once more. The prince was Courage, and Gwaine was Strength.

"I remember," Arthur turned back to the dwarf, weaving his fingers into Gwen's, "when I crossed the first time on my quest-"

"Arthur, we _really_ don't have the time-" Leon interjected, but Arthur ignored him.

"-you said something about being helped. By Strength and something else. I can't really remember though."

A knowing smile crossed the dwarf's face. Voice low, his words sent chills down Arthur's spine: "It seems Magic was able to help you after all."

"Arthur, you realize that-" Percival spoke up nervously, silencing himself at Gwaine's knowing glare.

"I don't condone magic, sir, I remember specifically telling you that last time I was here," Arthur reminded, "or did you suffer a bout of amnesia?" Gwen widened her eyes at him, jabbing him with her elbow.

"Arthur!"

"What? Gwen, you know I would _never-_ "

"It seems Love is correct in her assumption," the dwarf said, "Magic is banned in Camelot. She has reason to be worried."

"Right," Gwaine muttered, pushing past the knights to stand by Arthur, his brown shag of hair whipping in his face due to wind, "I say we just cross this lovely bridge and get going, yeah? Surely Merlin can't be far if this is where he's been taken?"

A sudden sadness crossed the dwarf's face as he allowed them reluctantly to cross, eyeing them carefully as Arthur held Gwen's hand the entire time, her brother and the others not far behind. Just as Percival prepared to step forth behind Leon, however, the dwarf called out to the prince.

"Make sure Magic gets back safely, Courage! Same to you, Strength- if he's left too long by himself, I fear he may be no more."

Arthur paused, furrowing his brow to ponder his words. His thoughts were broken as Gwen gently pulled him along, smiling softly as she rubbed her thumb over his. Arthur followed, still wary as they made it to the borders of the Perilous Lands.

"Sire," Percival spoke up, much to the prince's surprise. Percival was a quiet man, always watching until he inserted himself into the commotion of the world. "Why is it you think Merlin is here?"

"Because," Arthur said with an air of command, "it's the only place Cenred would take him."

"Are you sure?" Percival questioned, "I mean, it's the Perilous Lands, there's no way-"

"Merlin and Gwaine were with me the last time we fought Cenred," Arthur cut him off bluntly, "and the fool is to scared to make a move on his own. If he needs leverage, than the castle of Fyrien is the perfect cover for the likes of a coward."

The heat bore down on the knights, who all wore heavy chainmail and thick cloaks. Sweat sheened lightly on Arthur's forehead, and Gwen handed him a canteen, which he took gratefully. Handing it back to her, he announced, "Shall we, then?"


End file.
